Déjeuner du Matin
by Schwerelos
Summary: “Morning Breakfast” Inspired by a French Poem of the same title Kratos and Raine insight; previous and during the first encounter at the Tower of Salvation. Hints of Kraine.


IMPORTANT (?) : I wrote this a couple of years ago but didn't post it because it was always 'in construction' and then I never had the courage to make the final edits and such. Some parts may sound redundant, perhaps, but I lost this muse and I really, really loved how this turned out, overall, and so I am leaving it as it is. Thank you your attention and for reading this.

ALSO: There's tons of angst in this. Tons.

**Summary: **_"Morning Breakfast"_[Inspired by a French Poem of the same title] Kratos and Raine insight; previous and during the first encounter at the Tower of Salvation. Hints of Kraine.

Authoress' Notes: I've basically just taken the game scenes and give them some _thought_. I, personally, don't think that the idea is that _bizarre_, because I tried to nail pretty much what they would actually be thinking at that time (given the case, _of course_, that they were actually feeling _something_ about each other). Feel free to send me your comments and feedback. I _love_ to discuss about Symphonia.

_Déjeuner du Matin // _**Morning Breakfast**

_Il a mis le café // _**He poured the coffee**

_Dans la tasse // _**Inside the cup**

_Il a mis le lait // _**He poured the milk**

_Dans la tasse de café // _**Inside the cup of coffee**

_Il a mis le sucre // _**He put the sugar**

_Dans le café au lait // _**Inside the coffee with milk**

_Avec la petite cuillère // _**With a little spoon**

_Il a tourné // _**He removed it**

_Il a bu le cafe au lait // _**He drank the coffee with milk**

_Et il a reposé la tasse // _**And he left the cup**

_Sans me regarder // _**Without looking at me**

_Il a allumé // _**He lightened**

_Une cigarette // _**A cigarette**

_Il a fait des ronds // _**He made clouds**

_Avec la fumée // _**With its smoke**

_Il a mis les cendres // _**He put the ashes**

_Dans un cendrier // _**In an ashtray**

_Sans me parler // _**Without talking to me**

_Sans me regarder // _**Without looking at me**

_Il s'est levé // _**He got up**

_Il a mis // _**He put on**

_Son chapeau sur sa tête // _**His hat on his head**

_Il a mis // _**He put on**

_Son manteau de pluie // _**His raincoat**

_Parce qu'il pleuvait // _**Because it rained**

_Et il est parti // _**And he left**

_Sous la pluie // _**Under the rain**

_Sans une parole // _**Without a word**

_Sans me regarder // _**Without looking at me**

_Et moi j'ai pris // _**And I put**

_Ma tête dans ma main // _**My head between my hands**

_Et j'ai pleuré. // _**And I cried.**

Jacques PRÉVERT

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The fire was burning quietly, its flames lighting all the surroundings. He was sitting still, in front of it; his eyes apparently focused on nothing, his right hand involuntarily caressing Noishe. He looked as if nothing could perturb him; his face, stoic; all of him resembling the calm after the storm. Nonetheless, his mind was overwhelmed with all of what he knew was going to happen, what he knew he was going to do. Looking closer, one could see that his eyes were blurry with hurt and concern; feelings which, of course, he would never admit and even less allow to reach the surface.

All of the late events had astonished him, making it even harder for him to fulfill his duties. He wasn't even sure if it was the right thing to do anymore, but he didn't want to think too much about the matter. It just had to be done. He couldn't risk their lives by harshly changing the course of actions. He would rather be thought of as a traitor than have to watch them be massacred by 'Lord' Yggdrasill. No, it wouldn't do.

His eyes turned to her before he realized it. She was silently reading a book by the light of the fire, oblivious of his gaze fixed in her. For some reason, his chest felt heavier all of a sudden, probably a consequence of all of what he had on his mind combined: his duty, his dreaded fate, Lloyd, that innocent Chosen, their lives endangered… the calm and graceful Raine sitting in front of him, just a few feet away… he scolded himself for his thoughts and forced himself to look away. That wouldn't do either.

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She couldn't focus on whatever she was reading. She knew that he was the current night watch so she should be able to read peacefully, but it was for that very reason that she couldn't stop her eyes from drifting away, looking at him. He had always mystified her, he was far too mysterious for her to completely decipher. Whenever she thought she had managed to understand him, he always showed a new side of himself, whether it was swordsmanship, summoning, or angelic and magic knowledge. It seemed that there was not an area in which he had not been instructed. And against all odds, instead of distrusting him, she found herself attracted to the mercenary. Why, she couldn't understand; and even though she repeated to herself that she shouldn't grow fond of such an enigmatic man, she still found her eyes constantly staring at him, as if they were trying to look beyond that puzzling mask he was always wearing.

What confused her most were his actions: such a ruthless and fearsome warrior that behaved like a considerate and receptive comrade whenever around Lloyd. He always tried his best to protect the group, true; although the cause of such behavior could probably be his being paid for doing so. She looked at him one more time and she really couldn't believe that excuse. The passion reflected in his actions could not be faked or forced by such an insignificant matter as money. No, it seemed that he really cared for the ones he was protecting, maybe if only for one in particular. She always wondered why he was so interested in Lloyd, but she knew that the reasons would stay unknown unless he himself wanted to admit them. It was not too difficult to grow fond of him, anyway; she herself had fallen for that dense yet caring boy a long time ago. An impossible youngster to educate, but an admirable companion to fight along with.

She smiled at the ambiguity of Lloyd's personality; perhaps it could be applied to Kratos as well: cruel, yet kind. She watched him for a second, for the millionth time, and realized that there was something about him that didn't quite fit in his portrayal. She somehow knew that that was what held the key in the depiction of his personality. She also felt that it would be nothing that she would be able to foresee.

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He had been avoiding her –unsuccessfully- the remaining days before reaching the Final Seal. It was a ridiculous way of acting, but he felt he wouldn't be able to face those sapphire eyes knowing what was coming. Her gaze had always been so penetrating, as if looking right through him.

He knew she had noticed. It was impossible not to, even Lloyd had mentioned it after one of their nightly training sessions. He hadn't known what to answer him because he didn't know the exact reason of his doing so himself.

He had been avoiding her; her eyes were always so sharp at noticing things, and although he was proud of being one of the most stoic persons ever, he still felt as if in a single second his façade would slip and she would know, she would be able to see right through him; he knew that if she began asking him, he wouldn't be able to answer.

They had camped very close to Hima. The final moment was getting closer and closer by the minute. Everyone was feeling restless, it was inevitable. Colette especially, she was always smiling and letting everybody know that they shouldn't worry about her, but Kratos could see the truth behind her eyes whenever they mentioned the finale of the Journey of Regeneration. It seemed that Raine knew -what was possible for her to know- what was going to happen over there as well, as she nearly never took her eyes full with concern away from the innocent and pure blond girl.

His head felt heavier and heavier. He sat next to Noishe and prepared himself to stay up all night in quietness, as usual. Why did it have to suddenly hurt so much? It had never happened before. Not those eight other times when he had soullessly taken each Chosen to its imminent doom. He silently sighed. He didn't notice a pair of sapphire eyes turning to look at him, worriedly. He was an eternal sinner, falling and falling over and over again, without enough strength or a sufficient reason to redeem himself. He had discovered Lloyd, but he just couldn't intrude in his life like that, interfere with the way he had been living, making everything the boy had known fall apart. He didn't deserve another chance. He had been given a second occasion to live and it had been taken away. Now, for all his actions and for all he had done -and was about to do- it was too late to be forgiven. He had been chained to hell a long time ago now, and he had never even questioned the commands they had told him. He just obeyed his 'Lord' without considering whatever those involved could feel, without thinking about the lives he had taken away.

How could he be forgiven? It was unquestionable. There was no doubt. He just had to follow his stained fate and continue to keep condemning himself to an eternity of suffering, torture and disgrace.

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She was even more puzzled than ever. Why he behaved like that, was beyond her comprehension. It seemed like the mercenary didn't even want to cross with her, he looked more impatient and irritable than on other occasions; it killed her because she would have liked to discuss with him all that was going to happen, but he just seemed to repulse her at all times. Any subliminal motive aside, he was the only one she could have a reasonable conversation with. But now, for some reason, she couldn't even utter a word to him. He had withdrawn himself into an alternate dimension, it seemed, in which she was not allowed. Something was going on, she could feel it; something deeper than what she could imagine. She knew it had to do with _that_ and her curiosity had never pained so badly… in every meaning of the word.

These were the last days, she found herself thinking, the last days when they could all be together like this, and she noticed that it was all being ruined by his avoiding her. She couldn't help it, although she had to admit that it was a rather childish way of thinking. Something inside her chest ached –increasingly- and she just wanted to cry at the four winds all her desperation, impotence and hidden emotions –even those she hadn't even admitted to herself.

She couldn't even get a good night's rest: her quiet evenings of reading _alongside_ him gone suddenly, making her notice how trivially vital he had become in her life. Her head, her mind, her heart hurt; not wanting to realize truths she knew would only make everything even _worse_. She had enough to bear with the Journey of Regeneration alone to be pondering about romantic affairs. No- she had not just qualified it as _romantic_. Just… no. She didn't have the time for such things; the time, the courage or the strength. It would be useless pain she didn't need to deal with, considering the fact that the involved man was a hopeless mercenary that barely even showed any human emotion, let alone love. Ah, she was walking into very dangerous territory… it didn't help to cease her total uneasiness. How, why, when, **why**, _how_?

She felt her cheeks burning as her mind played with her, bringing back memories that involved _him_. She noted to herself: it had been a rhetorical question; she didn't really need to know. But it was too late, as scene by scene played through her head bringing a nostalgic smile to her lips and a never ending sting to her chest.

Night had already fallen and the stars shone brightly over her head, but she couldn't find any rest in observing them at the moment. Those she had always loved to stare at, endlessly, only managed to distract her for an instant, before her thoughts turned to _him_ once again, making her feel angry– no, **furious**, bitter and more vulnerable than she had ever desired. It was all so ridiculous –and so inconceivably painful- and just blew her always reasonable and calculating mind in so many possible and inconsiderate ways, and she felt as if her heart was going to explode with all of what she was keeping inside.

She held her breath a long, long time, before getting up and walking around. She desperately needed some air. Cool, fresh air, which could _probably_ help clear her mind. She stopped once she noticed him, only a couple of feet away from their camp; not close enough for the rest to see him, but for him to keep guard of the group. She didn't know whether she smiled, glared, sighed or if she had any reaction at all. What she did know is that, in that very moment, she only wanted to forget any restraint or self-control and ask him directly why is it that he had been acting like a youngster, evading her like that. She could swear that she was going to, but she felt her feet attached to the ground, freezing her in the spot, with her eyes fixed in him, completely serene, besides Noishe, like always, without imagining what effect his actions were causing her.

It was not fair, she thought, that he could be in such peacefulness right then, when she felt shouting and screaming and crying all at the same time. [It was not fair, that after all these years of reserved behavior, and staying away from people, deliberately not developing a close relationship with any of them, not a single one –except, probably, her three favored students-, and teaching herself not to trust nor care and even less –not in any possible situation- fall in love; it was **not fair** that it all was good for nothing, that after all those years she was now confused, perplexed, desperate and completely lost, having no idea of what to do or how to act, and feeling a teenager all over again, and it was **not fair** that she had to fall for a man like him, a man completely impossible to decipher. It was not fair that _now_, when she had so many other important things to think about, she was standing just a few meters away from him, realizing things she never needed to know, and probably would never dare to enunciate. It was driving her crazy mostly because she had questions she knew she would never be able –not even dare- to ask; he just sat there, completely oblivious, and she was in pain because her mind was screaming –as she stared and stared at him- that it wouldn't happen, that it just wouldn't be, that there were powerful reasons unknown to her for which she shouldn't have fallen for him in the first place. And she felt like crying, because she _knew_ and she had warned herself, and yet, she had not been able to prevent _this_ from happening, and it was too late, and she just _knew_ that she would –one way or the other- end up heartbroken because of him.

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It was all going according to plan. Remiel would soon face them in battle and then it would be his turn. Of course they would defeat Remiel; he trusted Lloyd for that. The boy had grown stronger and stronger before his eyes, making him feel so proud that it hurt his heart. Of course they would defeat him – they _had_ to. He really didn't want to think in what would happen if they lost. But – he trusted his son. They would win.

Standing from where he was, he could examine everyone thoroughly without their noticing. Sheena, Genis and Lloyd were all angry out of frustration; every word Remiel uttered like logs to the fire of their rage. Raine seemed somewhat _calm_. He couldn't help but smile – she had been expecting this. She had no way of knowing what would follow – he had made sure of that – but she was certainly aware that the whole "Journey of Regeneration" was nothing but a fake. Colette would've probably informed her; the poor girl knew she was going to die. He suppressed the faint sting in his heart – Colette _knew_ she was going to die and didn't do anything to save herself. She was just like Martel, always thinking about everybody else first. They both had been so selfless, so kind and caring… He smiled bitterly at the vicious circle of life: a girl had once given her life for the world, now another was giving hers in order to bring back the former. The cruelty was unbearable; this needed to end. He didn't know if he was hoping for Colette to actually be compatible with Martel or not; it would end wrongly either way, one of them would disappear from this world. Life had to be taken at the expense of another. But, bringing back Martel would put an end to all of this and no more Chosen would have to be sacrificed. Then, maybe, the world could go back to the way it once was.

No, it would never be the same. He could keep lying to himself like that but that wouldn't change the fact that he would know. Maybe his everlasting punishment was being a witness to all of it. Even if life indeed returned to what could be considered _normal_, and everybody could continue with their lives as if nothing had ever happened, he would know. He would remember: all the suffering, all the lives that were taken, all of what had to be done in order to achieve Mithos' Utopia. He would remember, and he would forever know that he was guilty, that his hands were stained with innocent blood.

He would always remember that he had not had the courage to stop Mithos, to make him desist of his radical and selfish ideas. That he had preferred for life to follow its 'own' course instead of leading it through a better path.

But _why_ was he having second thoughts _now_, when all this was already taking place? Why not four thousand years ago, before Mithos turned him into a pseudo-angelical eternal being? An eternity of guilt and blame was what was awaiting him. He had not had the courage to act before and that was his reward. He had had so many years to think and change his mind… although life had never had such a stronger meaning as it had right now. The irony.

He was risking his _own son_ just to let things take place… how pathetic and cowardly.

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It was distressing to watch, to say the least. To see your world, all that you thought was true, shattered; brought down by unimaginable truths. She felt she couldn't stay standing, her heart threatening to stop, her eyes blurry with confusion. She felt her legs weakening; her mind felt like exploding. She just kept staring, she didn't want to but she couldn't close her eyes; they were fixed in that unconceivable vision, looking and checking and staring and she couldn't –she didn't want to- believe and she felt like her air was running out and she felt those despicable tears forming in the corners of her eyes and it all felt so unreal but it was happening and it couldn't be – _no_.

If she could've looked around she would've noticed everyone as shocked as her; voices suddenly lost, words suddenly gone. But she couldn't take her eyes off him. His wings –_he had _wings- were blinding and his voice –uttering phrases she just _couldn't_ understand-, so deafening.

Her eyes found his for a second –just a single second- and for once she thought she could read him; but it was probably only her mind playing tricks because those rubies were cold, so cold, so frightening, so distant, so different from those she thought she had known. But she thought she could see the same confusion she was experiencing reflected in his eyes. She thought she saw pain, regret and despair in his gaze, but of course she was fooling herself because such determination accompanying such actions couldn't be faked because it felt so real and it hurt so much and her brain was probably not working anymore because she thought she saw him cry.

But his voice was so harsh, so low, so cruel, and all his manners were rigid and fixed and willing to complete this Ritual of Death and his whole self was so unrecognizable and yet… between all this game of pretending and betraying and disbelief she thought she could see _him_ –the one she knew- somewhere inside that dreadful Seraph, _somewhere…_ but maybe it was just her trying to keep believing, trying to understand, trying to figure out what in the name of Martel had just happened, because for all that was important and precious, she just couldn't put the pieces together, she just couldn't see where had all this come from.

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They couldn't notice, but he was running out of air. They couldn't see him up there but he was trembling and fighting with himself to keep steady and keep on talking. They couldn't realize –and he didn't know if it was for better or worse- that he was suffering right then, incredibly desperate, seeing them all like that: eyes wide, shocked, betrayed. He hated having to face them right then, having to look at him –look at _her_- and read their eyes demanding him WHY, why was he doing that, why was he betraying them like that and he had to fight not to take his look away because their gazes were like blades burying inside his soul and he couldn't answer them, he couldn't tell them… he couldn't not only because he shouldn't, but also because he didn't know himself. He was no longer sure. But he was there, and there was no turning back; they couldn't notice –he begged for them not to notice- a single tear falling from his eyes, his damned humanity claiming him right now, questioning him why, why, _why_? Why did he have to act like that, why did he have to keep on drowning himself in the endless abyss of desolation?

And he felt like his wings couldn't hold him anymore, his guilt making him too heavy to be carried, bringing him down, down, down… where only darkness and anguish could reach him. And he didn't know how it was that he could keep on talking because it was not _himself_, because he felt he didn't have any strength left within him. And he didn't know how it was that they couldn't _see_ that he was yearning to be by their side again, wanting to return to what he felt had been _life_ and keep on fighting alongside them. He didn't know how it was that his mask didn't slip, how it was that his voice didn't twitch or show any signs of the immense agony he was undergoing right then.

And when he raised his sword against them, he was surprised by how they could actually believe his poor acting, when it was obvious to himself that his hand was shaking and that his eyes were indicating every single bit of the regret that was consuming his soul. And his heart ached so much when he saw Lloyd raising his own sword against him, his actions and voice filled with hesitation, but –like himself– determined to carry out this until the end; even if it hurt to face each other after having fought together on what had seemed countless occasions that now didn't even feel real, after being almost like brothers, almost like father and son… And Lloyd didn't know –he didn't need to know – what that had _really_ meant, all that it involved, and all that it had made him feel… Now; now he had to face him, he had to **defeat** him, otherwise… He had committed far too many mistakes in his life; now, he stood there, frozen, eyes locked with Lloyd's, doubt confusing his mind, wondering if this had been the right choice or if it was just one mistake more.

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It was over. She was sure of it. There was nothing else to give. Not only they had been emotionally crushed with betrayal and deception, but they had had to face two- enemies was such a hard word for which she didn't feel yet prepared -opponents, one after the other. And limits existed, not only to the body, but also to the soul. There is a point when one just cannot keep going, and Raine felt as if she was heading closer and closer to it by the second.

Words kept coming out of the hideous _angelic_ being's mouth, words that didn't deserve to be heard. She wasn't paying attention either way. Her eyes were staring straight at their nemesis, but all of her other senses were somehow focused on _him_. As ridiculous as it made her feel, she was still in the process of accepting what had just happened. She just _couldn't_ believe it. Her brain was yelling at her to _snap out of it_ and come to her senses and give all her might in what seemed to be her last fight, but she couldn't completely control herself, as much as she wanted. Tears were forming in her eyes, but she completely refused to even acknowledge them because there was _no way_ that she's give him the pleasure of seeing her cry. Of letting him know that she had actually cared to the point of it affecting her that much. She was not going to give him that satisfaction.

She smiled bitterly. Denial seemed so out of place right then, when all was apparently going to end in just an instant. But she couldn't admit that to herself no matter what, for it would only further destroy her heart, and Martel knew she needed strength to what was yet to come. She would have given everything she had to find a way out of there, to be able to save everybody, to escape their current fates… she had nothing but her staff and her skills. They were all she could offer. She shook her head to _come back into her senses_ as she tried to pay attention to what Yggdrasill was saying. She breathed to gather force and found that her air drowned within her lungs as she stared at the atrocious man that was facing them, threatening to finish them off.

They were going to die, of course. There was no way to escape. Her whole body hurt, not only from the continuous fights that day, but also because it all felt so overwhelming in her mind, in her soul. She was tired, tired of believing in what just _couldn't be_. Her heart was bleeding worse than any other damaged part of herself. It was over, but she was not afraid. She had lived her whole life fearing of what people would think of her, it had been enough. She would not be afraid; not right now. She gathered whatever strength she had inside her for this last battle.

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Watching them fight this time hurt even more than watching them face Remiel. Because he knew there was no way Yggdrasill would show any kind of mercy. That was why he had needed to defeat them, but he hadn't even been strong enough to save their lives.

There was no place for regret now, regardless of what his heart was screaming to him at the moment. There was no place for regret because there was _no turning back_. They were going to die right then, in front of his eyes, and he couldn't do _anything_ to rescue them from their fate. He had been the God of Death that had led them to these circumstances, and he knew that perfectly well. He was perfectly aware that repenting now would be hypocrisy but that didn't stop his heart from breaking apart every time they fell to the floor, afraid that they would never be able to rise again.

How was he managing to keep his expressionless face? He wondered. Inside he was crying and shouting and suffocating and dying far too many times. He had failed, yet again. He wanted to look aside to hide his shame but he couldn't even give himself that treat; Yggdrasill would've noticed. Why would he look aside from witnessing his 'Lord' finishing a group of irreverent underlings? He should've won, he should've won… He hadn't counted on Lloyd getting that strong. Or maybe he held himself during battle, as a result of an inner moral debate of some kind… But he should've won and then they could've stayed _alive_…

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It was useless. Yggdrasill was obviously more powerful than they could have ever imagined, and the effort was exhausting them way more than his attacks. Her ears burned as she heard her brother cry in agony over and over again. Sheena and Lloyd completely covered in bruises, but in their own two feet, fighting that demon with all of their might, probably until they wouldn't be able to stay standing any longer.

She was falling, falling down. Her legs abandoning her; her hands holding her staff with desperation; her mind focused only in her companions, focused on giving them the strength that she was rapidly losing and felt she would no longer have. It was _frustrating_. Her whole body began to tumble down, without obeying her. She HAD to keep on going. She HAD to take care of them, she _had to_… She was no longer able to keep her eyes fully open, to force her legs not to bend… She was sure she had not much life left in her.

With a last spell, her hands released her staff, falling to her sides. Her whole body fell as well, attracted to the ground; weak, lifeless. She opened her eyes once more, desperate to hold on to life, not for her, never for her, but for _them_. Them - they… It was all over and it didn't matter… but she wanted -she had to- and she couldn't… She had nothing else to give. Her life was going and she couldn't do anything about it. Yggdrasill attacked her one last time. She cried out in agony, in desperation; the attack itself didn't hurt half as bad as _dying_ – leaving them all to their doom. She was supposed to be strong and yet, she couldn't do anything to stop their imminent deaths. The shake had made her bounce, the cold stone bruising her already broken body; she felt tears forming in her eyes, although she didn't have any strength left for crying. She gazed around –her neck weighing much more than it had ever before– and forced a smile towards her brother, and it hurt so badly to see him in that same situation, it hurt _so__very__much_. And she saw him fall, smiling, smiling at her, and she felt her heart breaking in a million pieces, but she was also dying, so what difference could it make… It tormented her last minutes, though… It was over; it was over, and she was dying.

Had it all been for nothing? Were all those fights so useless that now they couldn't even give meaning to their fate? She refused to believe so. She refused to believe that it had all been meaningless. Alas, nothing could make a difference anymore now. Only a miracle…

With a last effort, she decided to have one last look around. She was stubborn; she wouldn't go so easily. Genis – fallen, with only herself to blame for that; Sheena, on the edge of pain, cards going away from and towards her hands without making any significant scratch; Lloyd, thrusting his sword almost without thinking, his eyes fixed in that demonic angel, his mind obviously in the poor blond floating above all of them. Raine's smile widened just a bit – Lloyd would never admit he was losing, he just wouldn't give up.

Before she could help it, her eyes turned to _him_ one last time. He was just standing there, watching them being massacred; not uttering a word, or showing any emotion. Of course, it no longer surprised her. What did surprise her was the twitch inside her, different to any other pain she was experiencing right then, still constant and as hurting as …as the night when she realized she-… She was surprised that she could still think about _that_, and in such an inappropriate moment. How could she-, why did she-? She had not been able to find an answer to that inexplicable development and she never would, for now it was too late for any of that foolish thinking… Her smiled disappeared, as her vision blurred completely. She closed her eyes and exhaled. All her life passed in a second, and immense anxiety corrupted her soul, for she felt what she had done had not been _enough_… As her air run out, she noticed that her heart had already stopped moments ago, but for completely different reasons. She sighed, as she finally lost her consciousness; her body immobile on the floor, her face going pale… and one single tear fell from her eyes.

_Fin._

**THE END**


End file.
